


Twenty Stitches In A Hospital Room

by blackorchids



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Car Accidents, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Panic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22421725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackorchids/pseuds/blackorchids
Summary: Sugar Plum:04.19.2023, 4:37pmPeaches, something happened. Call me.Lucas is in a car accident.
Relationships: Lucas Friar/Maya Hart
Comments: 7
Kudos: 156





	Twenty Stitches In A Hospital Room

**Author's Note:**

> this was a prompt given to me by a lovely commenter **Arion+Eggers** on another one of my fics! Hope you like it, buddy :)
> 
> title from taylor swift's _out of the woods_ bc when i thought about "songs mentioning car accidents" this was the first thing that came to mind

The canvas is almost twice her height and getting the broad strokes to fill the background had taken some doing, but now that Maya is working on littler details towards the bottom, it’s quite comfortable to paint on.

She’s sat cross-legged on the hardwood floor, her leggings covered in colorful fingerprints from every single time she’d gotten paint on her hands and subsequently wiped it off on her thighs. It’s a habit she’s had for years that has ruined countless pairs of pants, but a guilty part of her kind of likes the way it looks, which is likely why she’d never tried real hard to break it.

When she looks directly up, the canvas towers over her, gradients of blue and violet creating the sky, fluffy pink clouds swirling across it. From this angle, it is almost overwhelming to look at, but Maya likes that feeling in her chest, that _almost too full to burst_ sensation squishing underneath her ribcage to stutter her pulse.

Abruptly, she realizes her ears are ringing, and when she comes back to herself a little more she notices that her music has stopped playing. Standing takes some effort, her left calf jittering and tweaking as the blood rushes back through it, her knees cracking as she rises, and Maya grimaces to herself and puts her hands on either side of her back and stretches her spine as much as she can manage, reveling in the little _pop_ noises.

Finally, she stumbles towards the countertop where her phone is resting, likely dead, and she washes her hands, plugs it in, and begins unwinding her hair from its half-secured top-knot as she waits for it to wake.

From this distance, across the small living room, the painting is just as magnificent, though somewhat less formidable.

Her phone blinks to life and starts buzzing. And buzzing.

And _buzzing_.

She watches wearily as dozens of texts from Riley start pouring in all at once, trying to remember what fandom her best friend was in this month and whether anything might’ve happened that would’ve sent Riles all a-whirl.

It’s only when other notifications, from Zay and Farkle, and missed phone call messages start coming in that Maya feels something worries start to curl in the pits of her belly, her half-reconstructed messy bun drooping down her face, abandoned, as her thumbprint unlocks the screen and she reads Riley’s most recent text.

 **Sugar Plum:** 04.19.2023, 4:37pm _Peaches, something happened. Call me._

Riley answers on the first ring and doesn’t even give Maya any time to make a bad joke before she’s rushing out, “Lucas was in a car accident, you need to come.”

It’s like a stone dropping to the pit of her stomach, and Maya’s entire body feels suddenly cold. Riley’s rattling off a few more details and the hospital address, but it’s like the phone is across the room for how distant the sound of her voice feels. There is nothing beyond the rushing in her ears and the pounding in her chest.

Maya tries to steady her breathing, tries to line up her thoughts in short bursts of manageable tasks: put on her shoes. 

_Lucas was in a car accident, you need to come._

Grab her wallet.

_Lucas was in a car accident—_

Find her keys.

_Lucas—_

*

If someone were to ask later how Maya got to the hospital, she would not be able to describe the trip. She must have gone outside and hailed a taxi upon realizing exactly how slow the New York City bus routes were, but there is no memory of it. She must have asked someone at the front desk what room Lucas was in, but if she did, she cannot recall.

All there is is her, standing in her apartment listening to Riley, and then it’s like she blinks and she’s striding down a too-clinically-white hallway, four doors away from Lucas’ room. There is no in-between. If Maya believed in superpowers, she would have assumed she’d just teleported.

Zay and Farkle are lounging in chairs outside of the room, and when they spot her, it’s almost a race to see who can get to her first. Farkle manages it, but only because he tripped Zay pretty blatantly, and he hugs her tight, long arms wrapping around her shoulders and squeezing hard enough that she stops shaking.

Maya didn’t even know she had been shaking.

“He’s getting an MRI right now,” Zay tells her from the side, scooping up her wild tangle of hair and expertly plaiting it back, using one of his own little elastics to tie off the bottom. “Nothing too serious, just a bad break on his leg, but his wrist is just sprained, and there’s barely any cuts from the glass.”

Farkle is still hugging her. If Maya wasn’t so out of her mind with worry, she might find it kind of funny.

“But he had trouble with memory a little, when he woke up, so they’re just double checking that it’s standard PTSD and not something more serious.”

Maya snorts, unwillingly, and when she twists a little in Farkle’s tight grip, she scowls at the triumph in Zay’s expression.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Farkle sums up for her, and then he suddenly lets go. Maya’d be a little outraged, except she’s almost immediately tackled by Riley, who is red-faced and sobbing. Zay rescues the coffees from Riley’s grip, which gives her seemingly more octopus limbs to cling to Maya.

Focusing on Riley make the wait time go by in a flash, and they’re shuffled to one side as the wheel chair with Lucas in it gets pushed back into his room. Maya’s pulse picks up again, but Riley is suspiciously calm and level-headed, blowing her nose summarily and then perching on the armrest of Zay’s chair, looking at ease.

“Were you—” Maya thinks to start, somewhat outraged that she didn’t realize before that Riley might be faking it. She’s interrupted, however, by a nurse coming out and announcing that Lucas was free to take visitors now.

Maya sits staunchly in her own chair, gives Farkle and Zay a daring look when they both seem about to say something. Zay goes in first, and Maya starts to panic.

 _He’s gonna be fine_ , Maya thinks firmly, Farkle’s voice echoing around in her head. She forces herself to take a steady, deep breath.

He’s gonna be fine, but what if he _hadn’t_?

It has been years since Maya was this worried about that dumb cowboy being hurt, and it’s like Maya is still a little girl, unable to even think about the ramifications of what it might be like to live without him.

Farkle and Riley go in together, and Zay sits next to Maya and likely cracks a few jokes, but Maya is staring at her hands and not listening to anything besides the drumbeat of her heart and the echo of Farkle’s voice in her head.

_You could have gotten hurt on that stupid bull! What do you think you getting hurt would’ve done to the people that—_

_—care about you_.

“Maya,” Riley says, smoothing flyaway strands of Maya’s hair back into the loose braid, soothing as ever. “He’s asking about you.”

*

Lucas looks normal and _fine_. He’s sitting up in his bed, sheepish grin on his tanned face, one scratch over the apple of his cheek taped closed by that weird medical bandaid doctors like to use.

“No flowers?” He jokes, when Maya pushes through the door and then stays right there in that spot, as far from him as she can get while still being in the hospital room. Him breaking the silence gives her all the strength she needs to cross the room and slap him, pretty hard, on his muscled chest. He’s barely done letting out a little _oof_ of protest when she’s kissing him hard on the mouth, trembling and overwhelmed.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers when she pulls away at last. He’s careful about raising his hand because he’s attached to an IV line, but he still manages to brush away the tears pooling under her eyes. He arches his head to kiss her again, gentle and brief, and Maya feels something in her settle, finally.

“Sorry for worrying you,” he tells her.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me over on [tumblr](http://www.rosalinesbenvolio.tumblr.com) maybe send me a prompt!! :D


End file.
